


549 Days of You

by foxseal



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Heart-to-Heart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 10:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxseal/pseuds/foxseal
Summary: Minhyun and Seongwoo make time for a much-needed date night in Tokyo.





	549 Days of You

**Author's Note:**

> ☆ Thank you as always to kei for beta-ing this piece + for reading my stuff no matter how repetitive they are u_u much luuuvvv ♥  
> ☆ Wrote this in a small waiting room at Granada airport because I got really emotional all of a sudden and had to let it out somewhere. I might have projected a lot of my thoughts onto this fic but I hope it's a decent read nonetheless! ♥

“So... a little bird told me I’d be your ideal travel buddy.”

Seongwoo whips around so fast he almost smacks Minhyun in the face. Obediently, he scoots back from where he’s lying on the bed to make space but not without an accusing pout. 

“Why are you reading my post-its! Those are for the fans’ eyes _only_.”

“Can’t help it if they get posted on the fancafe.”

A warm weight settles in next to him and he feels himself sinking into the middle chasm between the sheets. Their hotel in Tokyo this time, miraculously, has movable beds—a feature absent from most of their previous hotels—so the first thing Seongwoo did the second they walked in was push the two together and collapse onto the now-megasized bed. It was of utmost priority, after all—he’s had enough of sleeping without Minhyun. 

Frankly, he’s had enough of doing _many_ things without Minhyun, but it’s not exactly like he’s in a position to complain. With the end of year comes an even more packed schedule that leaves them barely any room to breathe, let alone spend time together. It would’ve been bearable if being busy also meant Seongwoo’s brain would be too tired to think. But many nights he loses sleep, thoughts a garbled mess of all the inevitable things still yet to come.

“Hey,” Minhyun jolts him out of his thoughts— _overthinking_ again _, damn it_ —with a gentle elbow to his side. “We have a couple of hours to spare before we really need to sleep.”

Seongwoo shifts to look at him, takes in the light bags under Minhyun’s eyes. “Don’t be stupid. You’re probably really tired after this week.”

“We’ve both had the same week, Seongwoo,” Minhyun laughs even though they both know it’s not true. “And are _you_ tired?”

“No. Not really,” replies Seongwoo honestly, because he’s gone so long without having Minhyun to himself and it’s selfish but they’re not going to have _this_ for much longer and he’d swear sleep off if it means he can stretch out their time together that way. “I slept a lot on the plane.”

“Good,” Minhyun says, self-satisfied. “Let’s go out, then.”

“Where?” Seongwoo asks just as Minhyun stands up to stretch—and expose a sliver of his tummy, but Seongwoo tries not to think about that.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to see in Shibuya but never had the time to. It’s supposed to be a really good spot for photography,” At this, Seongwoo perks up. But not as much as he does when Minhyun turns around with a soft, but hesitant smile, like Seongwoo would refuse him of anything at this point in time—or _ever_ , really. “It’s also quite romantic at night.”

“We’re leaving,” Seongwoo says decisively, already gathering up his coat, scarf and bag—and not forgetting to take Minhyun’s hand. “Right now.”

Whatever sight awaits them has nothing on Minhyun’s answering smile.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo has to admit, it does put up a pretty convincing fight. Despite the stifling proximity of the crowd, Seongwoo is still struck breathless by the famous Shibuya Illumination—a stretch of road lined with trees, all adorned with lights while the bare branches hang over them—like an avenue made for fairies. The encasing tunnel of lights casts a soft, blue glow over Minhyun’s awestruck eyes and what is visible of his face under his hood; Seongwoo wants to pull it back, expose him to the lights and show everyone why the sight can only put up a decent fight and never win; but he already looks magical, even like this. He makes it a little hard to breathe, too, and Seongwoo finds himself taking his pictures each time, chest constricting with every press of a button. 

Minhyun, on the other hand, is so lost in the lights that he doesn’t notice Seongwoo’s shutter going off in his face until he gets nudged for a smile. Which he eventually gives—presumably, if the way his eyes crinkle slightly is anything to go by—with a small chuckle.

“You weren’t lying when you said it was good for photography,” murmurs Seongwoo as he flicks through his shots, marveling at the colours he’d managed to capture.

Minhyun laughs behind his face mask and steps closer to Seongwoo, apparently drawn to warmth instead of the pale blue LED lights hanging overhead. “Come on, have I ever lied to you?”

“Um, all the time?” Seongwoo lowers his camera to give Minhyun a look. “Whenever you’d back out on getting out of the hotel for some snacks? I swear when you said _we should go out_ without any prompting, for a second I was worried someone took you away and replaced you.” He crowds in on Minhyun’s personal space and gently pulls his face mask down. “Hello? Who are you and what have you done to my Minhyun?”

“Stop—someone might recognise us,” he complains, but he makes no move to pull away. 

Instead he lets out another giggle and lets himself get pulled in by the gravity of Seongwoo’s affections—so strong, because he wants Minhyun to stay in his orbit forever.

Something swells in Seongwoo’s chest—he puts his camera down, lets it hang from his neck because suddenly it feels hard to breathe from how much this feeling consumes his chest, every fibre of his being, and Seongwoo knows there’s only one thing he has to do.

“Hey, Minhyun?”

“Hm?”

Minhyun tilts his head in question—and without another word Seongwoo pulls them under one of the illuminated arches away from the crowd, cups his face and pulls him in for a kiss.

Minhyun’s first response is to gasp in surprise into Seongwoo’s mouth—they’re celebrities, kissing in public is never a good idea—but the advantage of Christmas time in Japan is that there are enough couples just as lost in their own physical displays of affection to mask them from being the anomaly.

So Minhyun’s second reaction, once the surprise wears off, is to kiss Seongwoo back just as enthusiastically—and behind his closed eyelids Seongwoo sees lights, twinkling, brighter than Shibuya’s illumination and brighter than any stage lights he’s ever been under. With every touch of Minhyun’s lips and every small swipe of his tongue, something in Seongwoo lights up like firecrackers, sparklers, igniting him like a welcome hearth in mid-winter.

Perhaps Minhyun can detect how desperately Seongwoo is kissing him—like he never wants to let go, like he’s starved and will never be sated—because there are hands on his now where Seongwoo’s clutching at Minhyun’s face, thumbs stroking over his cheeks as he takes Minhyun's lips between his again and again, feeling his breath catching and _shit_ his fingers are trembling now—

“ _Seongwoo_.” Their lips part with a wet sound and Minhyun pulls away, eyes searching and hands gripping Seongwoo’s shoulders tightly. “Seongwoo, what’s wrong?”

He makes to pull away but Minhyun keeps him there—rooted, grounded, _steady_ , like he always has and _fuck_ — “Minhyun, what the hell am I going to do without you?”

Neither of them noticed the bitingly chilly air of Tokyo’s night before, but now it’s enveloping them like a cloak of ice.

Minhyun’s fingers are stiff on his shoulders. He lets out a small laugh, but it’s stilted, devoid of the warmth that usually accompanies it. “What are you talking about? I’m right here.”

“Please don’t act stupid—not now,” Seongwoo shakes his head. “You know what I mean.”

Because of course Minhyun does—more than anyone else, more than Seongwoo himself—he knows what the start of next year would bring, what it would mean, what the possible repercussions are. Seongwoo wasn't the one brought into different rooms for one talk or another—he didn’t have to stay up later than everyone else for negotiations that ended in a deadlock, only to lose even more hours of sleep under the clutch of uncertainty that has him in a chokehold.

He has had to shoulder so much—and will have to shoulder more in the months to come—but trust Minhyun to smile like the storm he’s passing through is merely a breeze. Trust Minhyun to take a leap of faith anyway; to cross the gap between mutual admiration to tentative romance, and then catch Seongwoo when he falls headfirst into uninhibited infatuation, returning his love with equal fervour and then more. And all Seongwoo has to show for all that love is to be a big baby about it.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out slowly, and the air rattling through his chest threatens to heave out a sob instead. “I know we said we won’t talk about it—but I’m sorry, it’s just. I’m not ready—“ 

“Hey, hey, relax,” Minhyun shushes him, hands drifting down to clasp their fingers together. “Slow down, now. I didn’t realise you’ve been bottling up so much.”

“Haven’t _you_?”

“Sure I have, but—“ Minhyun bites his lips, contemplative over his next words. “Okay. I think it was a mistake to say we shouldn’t talk about it, because we clearly _should_ —I just didn’t want it to distract you because I know you want to make the most of the time left with the fans.”

“I want to do the same with you,” Seongwoo says unthinkingly.

Minhyun gives him a smile difficult to interpret. “But Seongwoo—we’re not breaking up.”

 _Not yet_ , Seongwoo silently thinks. He’s not going to fool himself into thinking there’ll be time to spare for each other outside of their resumed activities, and a few random texts won’t keep them steady for very long. He’s seen such relationships fall apart too many times for him to think they would ever work out. “It won’t be the same,” is what he ends up saying.

But Minhyun’s always been good with words. Has always been able to read between the lines. “We’re going to be the same people. Whoever we are on stage—it’s different from who we are _here_ ,” Minhyun holds their intertwined hands, “Together. I’m still going to be Minhyun. Seongwoo’s Minhyun. And who will you be?”

“Minhyun’s Seongwoo,” he replies automatically, because that’s the only right answer to give—and the only one that feels right. “Who won’t get to see him in the mornings. Who won’t get to sleep beside him at night, and won’t be able to joke with him during long, boring car rides or plane rides.”

Minhyun winces like the words hurt, and Seongwoo feels a little bad for jumping this on him because it’s neither of their faults, but he _needs_ to let everything out.

“We’ll have breaks—“ Seongwoo shoots him a look, and Minhyun laughs. “Okay, maybe not. But we’ll have some time. Small pockets of time like this, weekends or off days. And we’ll find our own time. We always find time for things we love—and you happen to be at the top of my list.”

It’s the best they can do, really. Seongwoo shuffles forwards to rest his head on Minhyun’s shoulder—suddenly he can’t bear to be _physically_ apart. “And the jokes?”

“I thought you were sick of them already?” His chest moves with every laughter, and Seongwoo closes his eyes as a hand comes up to the back of his head, carding through his hair slowly, cradling him close. “We’ll call. I’ll call. A lot. Until you’re so sick of seeing my caller ID on your screen you’ll start refusing to pick up.” 

“Impossible,” mutters Seongwoo into the cold material of Minhyun’s coat. “I’ll be calling you, too.”

“Not at the same time—then we’ll both always be busy on the line.”

“I’ll send you voice notes,” sighs Seongwoo. “And video call too. Maybe when I’m getting off while thinking about you.”

“Seongwoo!” Minhyun slaps his shoulder lightly. “My boyfriend is so crass.”

Unbidden, Seongwoo lets out a whimper at the nickname that manages to wrench his heart so painfully—he buries his face deeper into Minhyun’s cloak and clutches at his sleeve. “I’m going to miss you.”

Minhyun gently peels him off, still cradling his head, and lets his gaze roam all over Seongwoo’s face like he’s memorising every frame of the mental pictures he’s taking. “‘I’ll miss you’ won’t even begin to cover it. But I’ll just be one message away."

“Promise?”

Minhyun leans in, lips just inches away from Seongwoo’s when he whispers back, “Promise.” 

This time the kiss is slow—like a poem written in a language only _they_ are privy to, and Minhyun is constructing a love sonnet only for Seongwoo’s heart to read. When Seongwoo throws his arms around Minhyun’s neck and pulls him closer, Minhyun moans in appreciation and pulls him in by the waist. It’s perfect— _they_ are perfect, fitting so well together that Seongwoo wonders why it’s taken them this long to find each other.

If only it can last forever—but then Seongwoo’s phone goes off in his pocket and they jump apart in surprise.

“Shit,” he grouses, staring at the caller ID. “It’s Sungwoon-hyung.”

“Does he want us to get him snacks or something?”

“I’m going to tell him off for interrupting our make-out session, just you watch,” grumbles Seongwoo.

Turns out Sungwoon _isn’t_ in search of a snack—and Seongwoo’s complaints has to be curbed for a while lest he ends up exposing their current antics to the world. Minhyun can’t stop cracking up at the sticky situation, giggling in the background while Seongwoo keeps his tone neutral and not at all impatient to go back to their date while chatting to Sungwoon on the call, but they manage to end it off without fanfare and Seongwoo is rewarded with a few more kisses for his efforts.

Maybe they won’t be able to eat off each other’s lunch plates anymore. They won’t be able to have each other before they go to sleep except for a few rare nights for sure, and they certainly won’t be able to wake up to sleepy, sloppy kisses as they get ready for yet another schedule.

There will probably be a time when they won’t pick up each other’s calls for a while. Heck, maybe they won’t even have time to _make_ them at all, but if this is the best they’ll have to make do with—if this is what it takes for Seongwoo to keep Minhyun, then he’s going to stick it out. Because Minhyun will be worth it, and Minhyun is reassuring him things will be alright.

So yes—things _will_ be alright, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Clearly my only coping mechanism for ANYTHING is to just. write a bunch of self indulgent shit ha! 
> 
> This would probably be a fitting piece as a final fic... unfortunately i think i will be writing for some time after the 31st dec and maybe even after the final concert... haha i'm not ready to move on even if it means i'll be writing into the void :-)
> 
> i'm on <https://curiouscat.me/sealfox>! please talk to ~~and cry with~~ me if you'd like! ♥


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